


The Beast's Lament

by ivoryandhorn



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivoryandhorn/pseuds/ivoryandhorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, the beast was a hero. Now the beast is a beast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast's Lament

The beast howls when summoned. 

This time the master is a girl. Small and afraid but straight-backed and cunning. Despite fear, the master chirps a greeting. _Let’s get along!_

The beast growls in return. The beast vanishes until needed. It knows the way of master and servant. It follows the master, invisible. When the beast’s mind is clear, it observes the servants who also heed the master’s call. Sabers and Riders and Archers and all of them fall before Berserker. The beast knows the way of the Grail as well.

At times it watches its master’s red hair and remembers other girls from other times. Soft giggling tumbles in the woods and the fields. A princess poised at his side, wreathed in wealth and beauty. (The beast’s heart pounds with remembering and then squeezes with grief.) A fat baby cooing in his giant hands. (The beast’s hands remember the pop of her skull in their palms and the beast howls, unheard.)

These thoughts bubble to the top of the beast’s rage like fish mouthing the surface of a river and are swept away as fast. There is so little left to the beast now. Half-forgotten laurels and fading sunlit smiles. Will the beast ever be allowed to remember that princess’s name? The name of that cooing baby, drooling on a burnished lion pelt? 

This is Hera’s true punishment, the torment of being remembered as a beast and so condemned to beasthood forever. These thoughts that are swept away will return and be lost once more, a cycle of eternal parting. The beast knows this well, a knowledge so deep that it is known even when the call of battle stirs up the beast’s blood, until that blood devours all knowing beyond death and fury. In the moments of quiet, the beast wonders if it must suffer this torment forever. Will one day the legend turn to happier times? Once, the beast was a hero. Now the beast is a beast. 

The beast is called forth into being. Sunlight falls on the master’s red hair as the servants are ordered into position. The beast once more remembers the fall of sunlight on a daughter’s fair head, and he mourns.


End file.
